Choices to Live and Die By
by deangirl1
Summary: Tag to Jus in Bello. Dean deals with his own choices and the choices of others. Not to mention a bullet wound...
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: **Sadly, still own nothing. Supernatural belongs to Kripke who is graciously letting me play in his sandbox. Thanks, man!

**SPOILER ALERT: **Tag to _Jus in Bello_

**A/N: **This was going to be a one shot but now looks to be a two shot. Dean just looked so devastated at the end, and damn it, he'd been shot! The poor boy needed some patching up, especially after losing a virgin and having to deal with that bitch, Ruby. And yes, if he doesn't start calling her that again soon, I may have to kick his ass…. Have no fear, though, she is only in this fic for one sentence….

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"So next time we go with my plan," Ruby spat out and spinning on her heel stomped out of the hotel room.

Dean had no witty or snarky comeback. He clutched his left arm in close to his stomach. His shoulder was throbbing; the ibuprofen he'd taken earlier really hadn't done much to help with the pain. And now he felt like he'd been run through with a red-hot sword. The screaming in his belly warred with the screaming he could hear in his own head. And yet, he couldn't make a sound. He looked at his brother. Sam looked at the floor. _He knows this is my fault. Those people. More dead. Because of me. Because I'm a screw up. It's no wonder he doesn't listen to me anymore. Why should he. I just keep screwing everything up._

Sam looked after Ruby's retreating back. How could he trust her? Yet she always seemed to have the answers. Answers they would need to fight and win this war. To save Dean. Sam looked at his brother. The anguish Sam knew would be eating at Dean was clearly displayed on his face. Sam's eyebrows knit together as his own anguish over the deaths of people they had become close to sank in. He drew in a breath.

"Dean," he breathed out.

"No. Don't," Dean clipped out cutting him off and clenching his own jaw shut. He hugged his left arm in even more tightly against his stomach. Sam could see Dean's jaw working and his throat bobbed.

Dean dropped his eyes to the floor as he tried to regain control of himself. His stomach was threatening to come up his throat. He couldn't listen to anything Sam wanted to say. He couldn't stand the thought of Sam trying to make this better. But even more, he couldn't take it to hear Sam take Ruby's side again. To say I told you so. To say she's the only hope. To confirm that Dean was just a screw up.

Sweat was beading on Dean's forehead and running down his back, but he felt like he'd never be warm again and he shuddered slightly. He was losing the battle against his stomach and suddenly launched himself up off the bed and into the bathroom, slamming the door shut on the way by. He barely made it to the toilet before he lost everything in his stomach, which did surprisingly little to ease the pain.

"Dean? You ok?" Sam's quiet voice barely penetrated the door.

The bathroom was small, so Dean was able to lean his arms on the toilet and use his foot to keep the door shut when he heard Sam trying to push through. As soon as he was able to stop the retching, he leaned back and punched the lock on the door.

"Dean?" Sam's voice was startled as he heard the lock click over. "C'mon man. Maybe you should let me in. Are you ok? Dean?"

Dean couldn't answer. He didn't want to answer. Sam's voice gradually faded out. Dean could hear Nancy.

"What? It's a choice."

There were no choices. No matter what you chose the outcome was the same. They'd told her they were the good guys. But they'd gotten her killed anyway. _He'd_ gotten her killed. Hardly a knight in shining armour.

Dean pushed himself against the cold porcelain of the tub behind him. He drew his knees up to his chest and let his forehead rest on his knees. He could feel blood oozing out of the wounds caused by the bullet. Sweat mixed with it to run down his body as he continued to shiver. And then his stomach rebelled again. He retched and dry heaved into the toilet.

"Dean! Open the damn door!" Sam was starting to get pissed. He pounded and still got no response from his pig-headed brother.

"Dean! Either open up or your paying the motel for the damage I'm gonna do when I knock the damn thing down!"

Silence swirled around Sam's words.

"Dean. Please." Sam's voice dropped to just make it through the door. _Damn it. I'm an idiot_, Sam thought. _Lock pick. Some day_ _you'll think to regret teaching me that Dean_. And then, _if you live long_ _enough_, floated unbidden through Sam's head as it did more and more often. Sam pressed his eyes together in an attempt to burn the unwanted thought into oblivion.

Sam wasn't sure what he'd expected on the other side of the door. His brother unconscious was his first thought. It was the only thing that would explain his not receiving any answer. Not a fuck off. Not a not now. Not an I'm fine.

But this was _not _what he had expected.

Dean sat with his back against the tub and his knees drawn to his chest. His arms were curled around his legs and his forehead was pressed into his knees. He was rocking gently backwards and forwards.

Sam slowly eased down in front of his brother, afraid to startle him. He slowly reached out a hand and laid it gently on Dean's knee beside his head.

"Dean? Talk to me, man," Sam's voice was soft and gentle. He used the tone he knew his brother couldn't resist.

He got no response. No flinch. No shrug. No indication at all that Dean even knew he was there.

"Dean?" Sam was starting to panic. Just a little bit. He gently shook his brother.

The reaction was the same: there was no reaction.

Sam gently placed a hand on either side of his brother's face and forced his head up until Dean had no choice but to look into Sam's eyes. At least, Sam thought there was no choice. Dean shut his eyes. He shut Sam out.

But Sam had seen. He'd only had a moment, but he'd seen Dean's anguish. Sam knew it wasn't just the anguish over the lives they had lost that day. Sam still marvelled over how Dean both went through the world with seemingly no attachments – other than Sam and Dad and Bobby – and yet Dean could become totally attached to and feel responsible for someone they were trying to help in the matter of a few hours.

Sam saw something else as well. Betrayal. Dean felt betrayed by Sam and Sam's actions. Sam wasn't sure how he felt about that, but he did know that he was helpless at the moment to make it better for Dean. He couldn't take his actions and reactions back.

Sam was suddenly aware of something else. Dean's head seemed unnaturally warm. He wasn't burning up, but he definitely had a fever.

"Dean? C'mon, man. Talk to me. How are you feeling? I think you might be fighting an infection. You'd better let me take a look at that shoulder again. Do you need some more pain meds? It's a bit early, but I think we could make an exception in your case. It'll help to bring down the fever too." Sam just kept talking as he tried to unbend his brother to take a look at his injury.

Sure enough when he had managed to get a look at the wound, it looked red and puffy and it had been bleeding again. Well really, why would his brother catch a break now? Karma just loved to make him her bitch. Sam sighed and reached for the first aid kit.

After thoroughly dousing the wound with hydrogen peroxide, which elicited no response from his brother, Sam applied a thick coating of antibiotic cream and reapplied a fresh bandage. Dean didn't so much as hiss in pain throughout the whole procedure. He'd completely withdrawn into himself.

Once he was finished, Sam managed to coax Dean to his feet and lead him back out to the bedroom. Dean curled up on the bed on his right side, shutting his eyes.

Sam went back to the bathroom and returned with a glass of water and the ibuprofen. He shook his brother's shoulder, but Dean refused to react. Sam sighed.

"Fine. I'll leave them here on the table. I'm going out to get us something to eat. I'll be back shortly."

When Sam returned, Dean hadn't moved. The glass of water and pills were right where he'd left them.

"Damn it, Dean!" Sam stormed. He'd had enough. He slammed the food down on the table by the window.

"Is that it? You're just giving up?"

No reaction.

Sam reached down to touch his brother. He was definitely hotter. Sam got the thermometer and shoved it none too gently in his brother's ear. 102. Shit.

Sam knew they didn't have any antibiotics. He couldn't take his brother to the hospital. Gun shot wounds had to be reported to the police. Granted there were no police actually left in this town, but Sam was pretty sure that they would find some kind of law enforcement to notify, and damn it, they'd just managed to get the law off their damn backs.

Sam needed help. It wasn't just that Dean was physically hurt. He was emotionally hurt too. Sam knew that he had contributed to Dean's being hurt and didn't know how to help him with that. Sam had tried to explain to Dean that he had to change to help Dean. It had been Dean who didn't want to know what Sam was doing. And the other things that Sam hadn't told Dean… well… he had good reasons for not telling his brother those other things. He hadn't wanted to hurt Dean.

_Good job there_, Sam thought to himself. Cutting Dean out and making him feel left out – hindsight was a bitch. Dean didn't do alone and Sam knew that, but Sam had shut his brother out. Kept out of the loop on purpose. For Dean's own good. At least, that's what Sam had told himself. And now…

Dean had clearly shut _him_ out. Sam was afraid that Dean was attempting to shut _everything_ out. Sam needed Bobby.

If there was one person who could get through to his brother, it was Bobby.

Sam stepped out of the motel room and dialled his cell phone.

"Ya?"

"Bobby?"

"SAM??? Damn it, boy! I just heard the news! I thought you boys were dead! Are you trying to give an old man a heart attack? Where's Dean? Is he ok? What…"

"Bobby! Dean's alive too, but I …we… need your help," Sam finally cut in. He couldn't help but smile at Bobby's uncharacteristic rapid fire questioning.

"Anything, Sam. You know that. What the hell has that idjit gone and done now?"

"Well, for starters, he got himself shot. It's not bad. At least, I didn't think it was bad. It was a through and through but it's gotten infected now and he's running a fever. The bullet must have dragged some material from his shirts through the wound..." Sam's voice trailed off.

"And what with just getting "killed" you hardly want to waltz into a hospital looking for antibiotics for an infected gun shot wound, right?" Bobby always could cut right to the heart of a matter.

"Yeah," Sam confirmed. "We don't have antibiotics to treat an infection and…." Sam was at a loss to describe the rest of Dean's state.

"Sounds like there's something you aren't telling me, Sam," Bobby probed gently.

"It's not just his shoulder. Ruby was here. It got really hairy. He's not talking. A lot of shit went down and now it's like he's just shut himself off…" Sam trailed off at a loss to explain it to Bobby when he couldn't quite get his own head around it.

"Not good," Bobby responded, "but it's happened before. You'd better come here. How quickly do you think you can get here?"

"We can get there in about 18 hours, but I don't think I'm up to it Bobby. I'll have to get some rest and head out in a few hours."

"Look, I'll gather up what I think we'll need, and I'll meet you half way. I can be on the road in half an hour."

"Thanks Bobby. I don't know what we'd do without you." The relief in Sam's voice came through loud and clear to Bobby.

"It ain't nothing." Bobby's voice was gruff. "Try to keep Dean calm and get him to drink as much as you can. I've got the map in front of me," Bobby did some quick calculations and suggested a couple of towns where they could meet up based on Sam getting a few hours of much needed sleep.

"Call me when you're heading out."

"Ok." Sam hung up and walked back in the room and between the two beds.

"Hey, Dean," Sam sat on the bed behind his brother. Dean hadn't moved. Sam could tell by his breathing that he wasn't asleep, though.

"I called Bobby. He's gonna meet us with some antibiotics for your shoulder. We'll head out in a few hours. Think you could eat something? Dean? Please?"

Sam reached out and touched his brother's arm lightly, mindful that that was the shoulder that he'd been shot in. Shot because he stood up to place himself between the FBI agent and his brother. Just as before, Sam got no reaction when he touched his brother. Sam's eyes welled up.

Sam stood up and went to the table. He forced himself to eat the food he'd bought. As he ate, he watched his brother's face. If his breathing hadn't given him away, Sam would have sworn he was asleep. His pale face occasionally showed a flicker of pain move across it but was otherwise completely impassive.

Sam only ate because he had to. He'd need his strength to get Dean to Bobby. After choking down as much as he could, Sam picked up the soup and sandwich he'd bought for his brother and brought them over to the table between their beds. Then he walked back around to face his brother. Dean's eyes were open.

"Dean?" Sam looked down at his brother. He was simply staring straight in front of himself. He did nothing to acknowledge his brother. After setting the food on the table, Sam crouched down in front of his brother, forcing him to look at him. But Dean had other ideas and simply shut his eyes.

"I'm leaving you some food here, Dean. Please try to eat something. I'm going to get a couple hours of sleep and then we'll head out to meet Bobby. He's concerned about you. He said that you should drink." Sam hoped that making it a request from Bobby might get through to his brother. If it did, there was no sign.

Sam sighed as he sank into his bed and let himself slip into blissful unconsciousness.

It was dark in the room when Sam woke up. He glanced at the clock and groaned. He'd slept for a little over five hours and didn't feel as if he'd slept at all.

Sam turned on the light and looked at his brother. It didn't look as if Dean had moved at all. The glass of water, soup, sandwich, and pills all sat untouched on the bedside table. At least he was truly sleeping. Sam noted that his cheeks were flushed and his eyebrows were knit together as if he was in pain or thinking.

Opting to leave his brother sleeping, Sam quickly gathered their things and packed the car. Finally, he was ready to head out to hook up with Bobby. Sam quietly approached his brother. Under normal circumstances, he would never risk his life by touching his sleeping brother.

"Dean?" Sam spoke before reaching a hand to gently shake his brother. He could still feel the heat radiating off of his brother's body. He'd purposely left out the first aid kit, and quickly grabbed the thermometer and inserted it into Dean's ear. 102.5. Not good, but all things considered, not that bad either. It could have climbed a lot higher. At least Dean was holding his own. And without the benefit of painkillers or even water.

Now he just had to get him into the car.

"Dean!" Sam shook his brother a lot harder. Sam almost sat down on the floor in surprise when he got a reaction out of his brother.

Dean moaned and his eyes fluttered open. He blinked owlishly at his surroundings. He turned his confused stare onto his brother. Sam watched recognition and remembrance flash across Dean's eyes. He saw anguish and guilt and sadness and self-loathing and doubt and betrayal all flicker across Dean's face in mere seconds before the wall slammed up and his face was a neutral mask again.

"C'mon, bro, we're getting out of here. We're gonna meet up with Bobby, okay?" Sam reached out to help his brother sit up.

Dean finally acknowledged Sam's existence by weakly batting his hands away.

Part of him wanted the contact with his brother, but part of him just couldn't do it anymore. He needed to regroup and shore up his walls and the only way he could do that was by retreating behind what was left of those walls. He wasn't even sure if he knew this brother in front of him. And then there was the pain. There was a weight on his chest that wasn't entirely guilt. His shoulder and head were throbbing in tandem and it made it hard to think. He was both hot and cold, and his stomach still ached.

Dean managed to push himself to his feet and staggered to the bathroom. He splashed water on his face and did what he needed to. He briefly considered throwing up again but found that not having anything in his stomach made it easier to resist.

Sam was waiting as Dean stumbled back out of the bathroom. Dean's eyes were locked on the room's door. It seemed like it was a thousand miles away. Sam reached out a hand to help his brother, but Dean didn't even acknowledge his brother's presence. He didn't even glance Sam's way. Dean managed to bounce off of virtually every piece of furniture as he made it to the door. He leaned his head against the door for a moment to gather himself before opening it and looking for his baby.

Dean sighed when he spotted the Impala pulled up as close to the room as possible. He pushed off the door frame and took one step towards the Impala and that one step proved to be the limit of his strength and his legs buckled. Dean would have gone right to the ground if Sam hadn't come up behind him as soon as he opened the room door.

"Easy, Dude. I've gotcha," Sam breathed in his brother's ear, snaking an arm around his waist and halting Dean's descent to the pavement. He got his brother to the passenger side, opened the door and got him settled.

Dean didn't acknowledge his brother but accepted the help.

By the time Sam had slid in behind the wheel, Dean had curled up against the passenger door and window. Sam heard a noise. He couldn't believe it came from Dean, and it scared the shit out of him. The first noise Dean made was a whimper.

Sam peeled out of the parking lot like the demons were hot on their bumper. Dean never even tore him a new one for abusing his baby. And that scared Sam even more.

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A/N: Just seemed like it needed a break there….

Please let me know what you think??? bites nails More?


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **Don't own 'em and am very grateful to Kripke for letting us play in his sandbox and borrow his action figures!

**A/N: **First of all, a huge thank you to everyone who reviewed and alerted this story – I'm really blown away. I've really only been on this site for a little while after having had a bad experience on another site, so I'm really, really appreciative of all the support.

I had originally thought that this would be a one shot, but those darn boys just won't shut up! Except of course for Dean, who proves to be wordier when he is silent…So now it will be a "3-shot".

I apologize for the delay in posting this and hope to have the last chapter up more quickly. This part in particular just proved really hard to get right I'm still not sure I'm there…

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Winchester luck being what it was – insert all bad here – the weather had turned almost as soon as Sam got on the road. The weather had been threatening for a couple of days, but it wasn't until Sam finally hit the highway that it started to snow. Unfortunately, the snow was coming from the same direction as Bobby, so while they had estimated that they should have crossed paths in about seven hours, Sam ended up being on the road for closer to ten hours.

Sam had a blinding headache from concentrating on the highway. God knew it wasn't from all the noise inside the car.

Dean had barely moved.

Dean had been utterly silent. Except when plunged into fitful sleep. Then Sam was treated to more whimpering, soft moans, grunts, sharp intakes of breath, and mumbled ramblings.

If Dean had been out and out delirious, Sam probably could have gotten him talking, but he wasn't quite that far gone and all of Sam's attempts to subtly get Dean talking had resulted in Dean instantly stilling and going completely silent again.

Sam sighed as he entered the small town and began looking for the motel where Bobby had already gotten them two rooms. Sam took the opportunity to check his brother.

Dean was still hunched into the passenger door. His head rested on the window and his left arm was draped around his body and lay in his lap. His breathing was a little fast. His face was flushed and unnaturally pale at the same time, causing his freckles to stand out starkly across the bridge of his nose. Sweat had dampened his hair and beads were slowly trickling down his face. The blankets that Sam had carefully covered him with were pooled in Dean's lap.

At one of their fairly frequent rest stops, Sam had tried to get Dean to drink something and take some ibuprofen. He was stonewalled again. Dean just stared straight ahead of himself out of the windshield. Sam took the opportunity to take his brother's temperature. 103. Not surprising, given that Dean was doing nothing to help keep it down.

Sam couldn't help being surprised that sticking the thermometer in Dean's ear had elicited no response. He actually longed to hear some kind of snark. Even a _fuck off_ would be welcome at this point. Well, if his brother was going to let him have a free ride for invading his personal space, Sam was going whole hog. He grabbed the two blankets they kept in the trunk for emergencies and carefully tucked them around his brother. Sam could feel Dean trembling beneath his touch. The only acknowledgement Sam got was Dean closing his eyes.

Sam had been playing all of Dean's favourite tapes. He knew that his brother's music was important to him and soothing for him. Sam was also hoping that he could at least get Dean to hum along. Anything other than the horrible silence.

It hadn't worked. The only sounds in the Impala as Sam wheeled in beside Bobby's battered truck were Metallica and his brother's laboured breathing.

Bobby had heard the Impala rumble into the parking lot, so as Sam killed the engine, one of the motel doors opened and Bobby stepped out.

Sam reached over and gently squeezed Dean's forearm.

"Dude. We're here."

Dean actually opened his eyes, but blinked owlishly, obviously disoriented. Sam's heart soared as he anticipated a snarky _where's here_? Then Dean's eyes lighted on Bobby, and his entire face closed up again. But not before those emotions Sam had already glimpsed galloped across Dean's face trampling Sam's heart in the process. Sam could see the anguish, guilt, and self-loathing. It was joined by what was clearly shame. _Shame?_ Sam could feel the blood rushing to his own cheeks. It was just wrong.

"Hope you've managed to kill the cat that's got your tongue, bro. Cuz you know the silent treatment isn't gonna fly with Bobby."

No reaction.

Sam sighed and climbed out of the Impala.

"Hey Bobby."

"Hey. How's he doing?"

"Temp's 103."

Bobby went to the passenger door while Sam turned toward the trunk to get their gear. Dean hadn't moved, unless you counted shutting his eyes again.

Bobby tapped on the window.

No response.

Bobby looked at Sam. Sam shrugged.

"Now you know what I was talking about," frustration came through loud and clear.

Bobby humpfed and opened the door, deftly catching Dean before he could make it all the way to the pavement. Bobby continued Dean's momentum and swung the young hunter up and out of the car.

Not having moved for the last seven hours, the sudden change in altitude caused Dean to sway precariously. Bobby gently but firmly pinned Dean up against the Impala.

"You with me son?" Bobby looked into Dean's troubled hazel eyes. They were large and glassy. Bobby attributed the glassy look to the fever that had heat radiating off of the boy.

Dean ducked his head, but looked up through his lashes at the man who had become like a father to him. How could he tell him that he'd failed. Bobby was counting on him to send those damn demons back to hell. It was his fault they'd gotten out in the first place. His screw up. Letting Sam get killed. And Bobby had been so mad about the deal. Just one screwed to hell choice after another. And people just kept on dying. Because of him.

But Dean couldn't shut Bobby out. Not entirely.

"'M sorry," Dean mumbled as his knees buckled.

Bobby's strong arms caught Dean before he could make it to the pavement.

"Help me get him inside, Sam," Bobby huffed out and grimaced at the strain of keeping Dean upright. He wasn't as tall as Sam, but the boy was all muscle, and muscle weighed heavy.

Between the two of them they managed to get Dean into the room and settled on the bed. They drew off his jacket, over shirt and boots. When Dean let Sam take off his jeans without any acknowledgement whatsoever, Sam and Bobby exchanged yet another look of disbelief as they pulled the blankets and bedspread up. Bobby already had the heater up and the room nice and warm.

Bobby went into the bathroom and grabbed a glass of water. He already had painkillers and antibiotics laid out on the nightstand. He also had gauze, antibiotic cream, holy water, betadine soap, hydrogen peroxide, and warm water in a basin. Sam hovered over his brother, completely at a loss as to how to help. He looked at Bobby, his eyebrows knit together in worry.

"Sam." Bobby hesitated. He knew Sam wasn't going to want to hear this.

Sam raised an eyebrow at Bobby. There was a hint of what was about to come in the tone of his voice.

"Sam," Bobby tried again, "Why don't you wait in the other room for me." Bobby indicated the adjoining door. Sam hadn't noticed that it stood slightly ajar.

"I'm not leaving my brother, Bobby," Sam couldn't believe that Bobby had even suggested it.

"I think that at this moment, it would be best if you did, Sam."

"No." Sam's face had hardened into a mask of determination. There were no emotional puppy-dog eyes to go with it. Just a cold, hard stare. Bobby's blood ran cold for just an instant.

"You're gone to him anyway, right now." Bobby could be hard too when he needed to be.

Sam's breath hitched at having the truth thrown at him so baldly. Sam looked at his brother. He had again curled onto his side with his knees drawn up toward his chest. His eyes were closed and his face pinched in pain. It wasn't clear whether that pain was physical or emotional, but Sam was betting it was both.

Bobby's words stung, but they also rang true. He turned on his heel and went through the adjoining door. It didn't matter, he tried to convince himself. All that mattered was getting Dean well again. Just as all that had mattered for the last few months was saving him from Hell. Any choice was worth that.

Bobby watched Sam stalk out of the room. Dean's words from months ago echoed in his head. _Do you think there's something wrong with my brother?_ This Sam was a new Sam. But everyone changed, right? The choices life forced you to make changed you.

Dean didn't do well with change. That was something that Bobby knew _hadn't_ changed. Dean was too ready to take all of the world's problems onto his shoulders. That would never change either. And Dean measured himself through his brother's eyes.

Bobby turned to the young hunter on the bed. Scooping the pills off of the nightstand, he sank down on the bed beside Dean.

"Dean? Son, I need you to take these pills and drink this."

Dean blinked at Bobby. It took him a few moments to focus on the older hunter.

"Bobby?" It came out as a rasp. It was only the second thing that he had spoken in hours and his mouth and throat were so dry.

"Yeah. The one and only. Can you sit up and take these for me, Dean?" Bobby repeated patiently.

Dean groaned as he pushed himself up enough to take the water and pills from Bobby. He couldn't understand why he was so thirsty, but he drained the glass. He was shaking so badly that Bobby had to hold the glass. As soon as he was finished, he sank back onto the bed with another groan. His head and shoulder were throbbing and he felt hot and cold at the same time. As much as his throat felt better for the relief, his stomach was not happy with the new arrivals. He clenched his eyes shut against the pain.

"Dean, boy, talk to me. Don't do this again. What's going on?" The older hunter smoothed a hand over the younger's sweat soaked hair.

"Please, Bobby, not now. So tired." The plea was barely a whisper, but it conveyed a world of hurt and anguish that made the older hunter's heart ache.

"I have to clean out the wound, son, and then you can rest." Bobby hated the thought of the pain he was about to cause the young man.

Dean's only response was a resigned grunt.

As gently as he could, Bobby removed Dean's t-shirt and the gauze covering the entrance and exit wounds. The wounds were slightly inflamed but not as bad as Bobby had feared. Any infection really hadn't had a chance to get fully established.

Bobby worked quickly and as gently as possible, cleaning the wounds and pouring both holy water and hydrogen peroxide into the wounds, ending by applying antibiotic cream and fresh gauze. A few grunts and hisses had made it past Dean's defences, but he made no verbal protest. Finally, Bobby pressed Dean to drink some more.

"Ok, Dean. Rest now. But when you wake up, we're going to talk. _You_ are going to talk." Bobby's voice was a low and soothing growl as he patted the boy on the shoulder and tucked the covers in around him. There was no denying that the boy looked like crap and needed the rest.

Bobby needed answers, and he knew right where to find them. He stood from the bed and strode into the adjoining room. He pushed the door mostly to. Sam was standing with his back to the door and wheeled around as Bobby entered, raking a hand through his shaggy locks, his eyebrows knit together.

"How is he?"

"Sick as a dog. But you knew that."

"He wouldn't even take an ibuprofen for me," Sam's voice had dropped to a whisper.

"Ok, Sam. Spill it. I want to know everything that went down and I want to know it yesterday."

Sam sighed and sank onto the bed. He was just so damned tired.

"We'd gotten a lead on Bela and the colt," he began.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

Bobby's comments throughout had been short and typically Bobby:

"Are you boys that stupid? What else has she got to do to prove you can't trust her?"

- Sam -

"The toilet? Damn!"

- Sam -

"Well, at least you were paying attention when your Daddy and I taught you how to secure a perimeter."

- Sam -

"What part of demon are you missing here, Sam?"

- Sam -

"Lilith? Shit."

- Sam -

"Bitch!"

- Sam -

"Your brother _is_ one helluva tactician. You know that, right?"

- Sam -

"Damn. The P.A.?"

- Sam -

"Damn. All of them?"

- Sam -

"I've said it before, son. What part of 'she's a demon' do you not get?"

But otherwise Bobby held his tongue and let Sam talk. He didn't want to distract the boy. He didn't want a lot of commentary and analysis. He just wanted the facts to draw his own conclusions. And to Bobby, the whole story seemed pretty clear.

"Ok, Sam, when was the last time you ate?"

"What? I dunno. Doesn't matter." Sam's eyebrows disappeared into his shaggy bangs. Dean was the priority. Dean's health was supposed to be their focus.

"It does matter. You can't help your brother if you aren't a hundred percent. And believe me. He needs your help, Sam. I can't bring him out of this on my own."

Bobby moved to the kitchenette in the room and pulled a sandwich out of the fridge.

"Sit." He directed Sam toward the table. "We got some time. I want to give those painkillers and antibiotics some time to work. We don't need to be fighting against your brother being in pain and feverish too. Believe me, we are fighting an uphill battle as it is."

Sam sat at the table, convinced he wouldn't be able to eat a thing. Bobby poured a cup of coffee for himself and the younger hunter and sat across from him. Bobby added a glass of water and some ibuprofen for Sam. Sam looked up at the man who had been a surrogate father to the boys since their own father had died.

"What _are_ we fighting now, Bobby. What the hell do you know about what's going on with Dean?" Sam's frustration made him lash out. He tore a hunk off his sandwich and shoved it into his mouth.

"Some of this you already know. Some you don't know. And some you should know." Bobby began a little cryptically. Sam just raised an eyebrow and scowled – not easy to do at the same time.

"You know that after your mother died, your brother was silent for almost an entire year?" Sam nodded. He'd heard the stories. At first, Dean had not uttered a sound. Then slowly he started talking to Sammy and then to their father, but it had been almost a full year before Dean had really talked, like a _regular_ kid. When they were teenagers and it was often difficult to shut Dean up, John had sometimes joked about the serenity of that time. Bobby had never thought it much of a joke, especially when he would see the hurt flicker over Dean's face like a shadow of a fast moving cloud.

"It's not so long ago that you don't remember what your brother was like just after your Dad died and you came to my place, I'm sure."

Sam nodded. Dean had been virtually silent for two weeks. After that, it seemed like it had been months before Dean really talked the way he normally did, unless it was about a hunt. You could almost always get Dean to talk about a hunt. Bobby was right it wasn't so long ago that Sam had forgotten the painful silence that blanketed so many miles in the Impala. At least, he hadn't thought he had forgotten, but maybe he had.

"What you probably don't know about is when you left to go to school."

Sam's face darkened. He was so tired of having that thrown in his face.

"It was your choice, Sam. I'm not the judge of you, and that's not what this is about anyway." Bobby responded instantly to the expression on Sam's face.

"Sorry. You're right. Please go on." Sam carefully forced his face back to neutral and half smiled encouragement at Bobby.

"When you left, you know it was hard on your brother."

Sam nodded in acknowledgement.

"Well, that was another time he shut everyone out. He barely spoke a word for almost a month. You know he was sick when you left. I think your Dad thought that it was just part of that, laryngitis or something. But it was more than just not talking. Dean just wasn't, well, _Dean_. His head wasn't here; it wasn't in the game. Your Dad was pissed at first because it meant he couldn't take Dean hunting. Not much of a back up if you can't or won't even shout a warning."

Sam just stared at Bobby.

"No one ever told me this, Bobby," Sam finally managed.

"It's not like you'd expect Dean to bring it up," Bobby pointed out. "Eventually, John realized he was in danger of losing both his sons and managed to get through that thick skull of your brother."

Bobby held up his hand.

"Before you even ask, I'm not sure how he did it. You know how both your Dad and brother are about personal family shit. It's not like they sorted it all out in my living room."

Somehow Sam knew that there was more to this story and that Bobby had had more of a part to play than he was letting on.

"After you …died," Bobby still had trouble with that, "Dean tried to shut me out. I didn't think he was as bad as the other times because he was talking to me… at least, he answered when I talked. In hindsight, I realize he wasn't really letting me in. You have no idea how much I regret leaving him alone in that cabin when he told me to go. I just thought he needed some time, you know?"

"It's ok, Bobby," Sam tried to reassure the older hunter.

"But I have had time to think about this a little bit." The depth of feeling that Bobby had for Dean was a direct reflection of the fact that he _had _thought about this. And Sam could easily tell, Bobby had thought about it a lot.

"It's no secret that your brother tries to protect himself by climbing behind his own set of walls," Bobby continued. "The only thing he protects more fiercely is his family. Is you."

Sam nodded in agreement.

"You know how hard your brother is on himself. He over thinks things. He likes to take credit for every mistake. He doesn't feel like he deserves to have a family, so he's not surprised when he loses it. At least that's what he tells himself. But that's when he shuts the world out. When the world takes his family."

"But damn it, Bobby! I'm right frigging here!" Sam pushed back from the table and the remains of the sandwich he had somehow managed to choke down. He began pacing in the confined space.

"Are you, Sam? Are you really here? Is it possible that Dean sees you slipping away from him? Add that to how he must be feeling after what just happened." Bobby stood up.

"Damn it, Bobby. What just happened wasn't Dean's fault."

"You and I know that, but do you think your brother really does?"

Sam shrugged and shook his head. _Damn it, Dean. Do you have to try to take everything on your shoulders?_

"Have you been telling your brother everything, Sam? Or have you been shutting him out. Lying to him." Bobby narrowed his eyes.

Sam looked to the right of Bobby, met his gaze, and let his gaze slip to the right again. Bobby knew the look and he knew the evasion. He'd seen it on Sam's face from time to time almost since the day he'd met him. Neither Winchester boy had ever been very good at lying to the people closest to them. Sure they could spin a good cover, but they couldn't lie to family.

"I never set out to shut him out, Bobby. I was trying to protect him. From things he doesn't need to know. Not if we don't break this deal. There are things. Things that Ruby told me that would only hurt Dean. It would serve no purpose to tell him." Telling him about Mom would be cruel.  
"You can rationalize what you've done all you like Sam, but to Dean, it's like you've abandoned him. Lost faith in him. Chosen to follow someone else."

Suddenly, Sam couldn't meet Bobby's eyes at all. He turned on his heel and faced the opposite wall. He fisted one hand in his hair. Had he done all that? He'd made the choices he had to make to try to save his brother. Dean had chosen not to try to save himself, after all.

"Sam. I'm not saying these things to judge you. I'm just trying to get you to see what's going on with your brother."

"Bobby," it was almost a whisper, "I never meant for him to think I'd lost faith in him. I'm just trying to save him."

"Look Sam, why don't you try to get some sleep. You're dead on your feet, and that brother of yours is gonna need at least another dose of antibiotics before he's gonna be up for much of a discussion."

Bobby raised his hand when Sam sputtered and began to protest.

"I'll keep an eye on him." Bobby's tone held a note of finality. This was a battle that Sam knew he wouldn't win, so he crawled on top of one of the beds.

"Couple hours, Bobby. That's it. Then I want my brother back," the last part was barely audible as Sam quickly drifted into the oblivion of sleep.

Bobby grabbed a bottle of gatoraid and moved back into Dean's room. He could hear the boy's breathing. It was still a bit laboured. Bobby moved quietly to the side of the bed. Dean's face was still pinched and pale, a slight frown still played over his features. He still had a fine sheen of sweat covering him.

"Dean?" Bobby spoke quietly so as not to startle the boy but loudly enough to make sure he was heard. As soon as he saw a flicker of returning consciousness, he said Dean's name again.

Sitting gently on the side of the bed, Bobby placed a soothing hand on Dean's shoulder. Dean's eyelashes fluttered on his cheeks and finally, his eyes blinked open. He stared at Bobby blankly and then with growing awareness.

"Dean, I need you to take some more pills and drink some more for me. I'm also going to take your temperature." Bobby explained everything he was going to do and what he wanted Dean to do. Bobby's voice was quiet but firm.

Dean blinked at Bobby. For a moment, Bobby thought Dean was going to simply shut his eyes again, but instead something softened in the young hunter's features.

"'K," he breathed and pushed himself up with his good arm. He lowered his gaze, but held out his hand for the pills. Bobby was pleased to see that Dean's hand shook a little less. Bobby passed over the Gatoraid and was suddenly confronted by Dean Winchester.

"No way, Bobby. I hate that shit! Don't you have some of the good stuff with you? I'll even let you cut it with holy water!"

Bobby chuckled, half at the words and half at the simple relief of having the young hunter finally put in an appearance.

"You're dehydrated and have a fever, all thanks to your innate pigheadedness, so none of the good stuff for you for a bit." Bobby pushed the Gatoraid more forcefully at the sick young man.

Dean grunted and swallowed the pills with the hated drink. Bobby waited for him to drink his fill. Even though it wasn't his favourite, he _was_ dehydrated and it _did _quench his thirst.

Dean passed the bottle back to Bobby and collapsed back on the bed. The pain in his head and shoulder had lessened, and Bobby's presence was helping to ease the pain in his chest. He didn't complain when he felt the older hunter slip the thermometer into his ear.

"Well, 102 isn't normal but it's a step in the right direction," Bobby murmured. "Get some more sleep, Dean. Then you and your brother and I need to have that little chat."

"Thanks, Bobby," Dean sighed as he let sleep take him away from the things he really wasn't ready to even think about.

Bobby settled on to the bed beside Dean's. He could keep an eye on Dean and still hear Sam if he stirred. Bobby was betting that Sam would be out for the night and had no intention of waking him in a couple of hours. He wanted Sam rested and at the top of his game. The wrong words from Sam at this point and Bobby really wasn't sure what it would do to Dean.

* * *

**A/N: **So, I hope I didn't disappoint anyone…. If you are wondering about Dean's silence after Sam went to Stanford, I will be writing about that in my other fic – _John Just Has That Effect on People_. And no, I can't believe I just blatantly self-promoted and created my own incestuous cross-over…. 


	3. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMER: **Sadly, still own nothing. Supernatural belongs to Kripke who is graciously letting me play in his sandbox. Thanks, man!

**SPOILER ALERT: **Tag to _Jus in Bello_

**A/N: **First let me say THANK YOU to all the people who have reviewed and alerted this story. Your support and kind words mean more than you can possibly imagine. I will in due time answer every review – promise.

Second, let me apologize for taking so long to post. When I started writing this, it seemed so obvious what I wanted to say and it has just been a war to get it down. I'm not convinced that I won this particular battle…. But I'll let you be the judge of that.

* * *

Bobby dozed throughout the night. He got Dean to drink a few times and gave him another round of pills. By the time Bobby heard Sam stirring, Dean's temperature was down to 100.5. Bobby heard Sam go into the bathroom in the other room.

The door between the rooms creaked open slightly as Sam appeared. He hovered on the threshold. As if in response to Sam's presence, Dean moaned softly and stirred toward consciousness.

"Come in Sam," Bobby instructed softly.

"How is he?"

"Fever's pretty much gone."

"Huh. Good." Sam sank onto the bed that Bobby was on facing his brother.

Bobby stood up and moved to the other bed.

"Dean?" Bobby sank down beside the boy gently laying his hand on his wounded shoulder. There was no heat coming from either Dean's body or more specifically, the wound site.

"C'mon Dean, we need you to wake up."

Dean's lashes fluttered and he blinked open his eyes. Bobby could see the doubt and pain there for a moment before the wall slammed up between them.

_Uh oh. I hope that I didn't wait too long in confronting the boy_, Bobby thought. There was always the possibility that Dean would continue to just try to bury his feelings and try to assume more of a burden of guilt for the lives so recently lost.

Bobby helped Dean to a sitting position against the head of the bed and pressed him to drink some more. It was still a bit early for more pills.

"Thanks," Dean murmured as he passed the bottle back to Bobby. He looked down at his lap. He avoided looking at his brother.

"How are you, Dude?" Sam broke the silence. He envied Bobby's proximity to his brother.

Dean didn't answer.

"Dean. Your brother asked you a question. We'd both like to know the answer," Bobby pressed.

"Fine. I'm fine." He said it quietly with almost no emotion.

"I really was hoping we were past the one and two word answers." Bobby sighed.

"Let's get some things straight." Bobby's voice hardened and both boys sat a bit more to attention.

"Dean," Bobby's tone forced Dean to look up at him. "What happened was not your fault. Sam's filled me in about what went down. Frankly, I'm impressed by your tactics. I've been hunting demons my whole life, and I don't think that I could have come up with a plan half that good. It was the safest possible plan for civilians too."

Dean's cheeks flushed. The first flush was caused by shame when Bobby mentioned the recent action at the police station. That flush quickly changed to one of gratitude, relief and maybe even a little pride at Bobby's words of praise.

But then reality crashed down. Civilians did die. And it was his fault. Bobby and Sam both watched the flush of colour drain from Dean's face.

"No. It's my fault they're dead." Dean breathed.

"Based on what?" Bobby's voice rose. "The word of a demon? Based on _Ruby's_ word?"

Bobby stood up and started pacing at the end of the beds.

Dean just shrugged and Sam remained disturbingly silent. Bobby spared a quick glance at the youngest Winchester. Sam's face was unreadable.

"God. I sometimes wonder how you idgits even manage to feed yourselves," Bobby shook his head and muttered under his breath.

"You do remember the part where demons _lie_, right?"

"She's tried to help us Bobby. She re-built the colt with you, and she saved Dean's life," Sam defended.

Bobby couldn't believe what he was hearing, and he wasn't surprised to see Dean squeeze his eyes closed.

"Did it ever occur to you that the entire incident could have been orchestrated by that bitch?" Bobby's voice had gone up another notch. But it wasn't the volume that captured both boys' attention - it was the idea that they had both been duped by Ruby.

Bobby stopped his pacing to better gage the reaction of the two young hunters.

Slowly, Dean's eyes rose from his lap and met his brother's. Sam devoured his brother's gaze like a man lost in the desert quenching his thirst. Dean searched his brother's face for any indication that his brother's infatuation with Ruby had finally been crushed. Dean tore his gaze from his brother and back to Bobby.

"What are you saying, Bobby?" Dean's voice was low.

"I'm saying that you two halfwits are basing an awful lot of your conclusions on the word of a god damn demon. She is the one who told you about Lilith and where she was. She is the one who waltzed in and out of that damn police station. She is the one who said that her plan would work. And speaking of her plan… wasn't it just a little too convenient that Nancy was a virgin? I mean c'mon, how many police stations have a virgin working in them?"

Bobby checked to see if any of this seemed to be registering with the brothers and was relieved to see that the penny seemed to be at least starting to drop for both of them.

"You have absolutely no proof that her spell would have worked the way she said. And even if it did, how do you know that Lilith would have been close enough to be affected? She could still have waltzed in afterwards and killed those people at the station."

"Damn," Dean breathed.

"And Sam? How do you think you would have felt after helping to kill a virgin?"

Sam paled a little and looked at the floor. He'd had plenty of time in the Impala to think about that, and he knew that as bad as he felt about Nancy's death, he would feel infinitely worse if he had played an active role in her death. It was a choice he had been willing to make at the time, and he knew with absolute certainty, in hindsight, that he would never have been able to live with that choice.

"I thought so. So. The end result? Ruby has driven a wedge between the two of you and made you doubt yourselves." Bobby shook his head.

"Sonuvabitch," Dean said. It lacked some of his customary enthusiasm but was definitely a step in the right direction.

"The two of you have always made a formidable team. You're stronger together. You know it. And so does your enemies."

Again, the brothers shared a long look.

"I'm getting us all something to eat," Bobby said. "Then we are all going back to sleep for a while."

Both boys watched Bobby walk towards the door. Just before he walked into the other room, he sighed and turned around.

"Talk," was all he said as he gently pulled the door to, to give the brothers some privacy.

Dean glanced up at his brother again. His mouth quirked into his customary smirk. Sam's face remained thoughtful.

"Who knew he could be so bossy? It's a wonder he doesn't give up on us. Seeing as we _are_ so damn stupid." Dean's smirk became a fond half smile for the older hunter as he glanced toward the door through which he had left.

"We're pretty lucky to have him," Sam agreed, his eyes also sliding to the adjoining door.

"I guess he figures that your brain will surface sometime; I mean you did go to college after all," Dean's voice was teasing. There was no malice behind the words.

Sam just humpfed.

"He'll always be there for you, Sam. You can trust him to be."

Sam's eyes searched his brother's face. He could see that trust for Bobby reflected on Dean's face and the comfort that Dean had drawn from that trust. Sam's heart ached, and he wondered if he'd ever have that ability with his brother again – to give him comfort that he could count on. He knew that he had before he'd left to go to Stanford. He thought that he'd finally earned that trust back, but looking at his brother, he realized that he had lost that trust again. Bobby's words haunted him. _Are you really here for your brother? Have you abandoned him?_

"As much as I trust Bobby and I appreciate everything he's done for us, he's not the one that I trust the most. He's not the one that I want to be there for me." Sam held his brother's gaze.

"Hasn't seemed that way for a while Sam. I…" Dean looked down at the blankets and picked at them absently.

"Dean? I'm sorry, man. I don't know what else to say. I don't know how to make this up to you."

It was Dean's turn to humpf.

"Sam…" God. He hated this. He didn't want to think about this.

"Please, Dean." Sam's voice pleaded quietly with his brother.

"It's just…I…Sam…I … sometimes….I feel like I don't even know you anymore," Dean's voice was barely audible by the time he forced the confession out.

"I'm sorry." Sam's voice matched Dean's in volume. He cleared his throat. "I'm not sure I know myself anymore. Don't you see, Dean? I need you. Maybe more than either of us ever realized. The choices I've been making. I… I'm trying so hard to do the right thing. I'm trying so _damn_ hard to save you. But the choices I'm making. Maybe neither of us can live with those." Sam's words tumbled out of him.

"Maybe you don't know yourself anymore because you're trying to be something you're not."

"I'm just trying to save you. You don't believe that I can save you, do you?"

"I don't know if you can or you can't, Sammy, but that's not what I'm getting at."

"What _are_ you getting at?" Sam's eyebrows knit together.

"You told me not long ago that you were trying to be _me_," Dean looked up sideways at his brother.

"You've always been my role model. I told you that not long ago too."

"But who do you think I am, Sam?"

"Huh?" Sam was puzzled by his brother's words.

"Do you really know who I am? I hope I'm not the person I see you trying to become," Dean's voice was so quiet, Sam had to lean closer to hear him.

"Do you think that I'm some kind of cold-blooded monster? That I can just kill and not be affected by it? Cuz that's NOT me. Not me by a long shot." Dean's voice was raw with emotion as he railed against his bother's hurtful misconception.

"Dean," the younger man breathed, "No!"

"Looks like you are using me as an excuse to become the cold-blooded killer Ruby wants you to be. To lose yourself in some insane shadow image of me. Don't fool yourself that I have no emotions. That I don't feel what I have to do sometimes. I remember the face of everything that I've ever had to kill." It seemed as if now that the dam had been breached, he couldn't stop the words from tumbling out of himself.

"It's your strength that I'm trying to channel," Sam tried to explain.

"Well, good luck with that cuz I gotta tell ya most of the time I'm just barely holding it together. Just because I don't want to talk about it doesn't mean I can shut it off completely, but we each of deal with things differently. You? You can't NOT talk about it, can't not feel it and think it to death."

"I don't think that of you. That you are a monster. Don't you see that I'm afraid of becoming a monster and you are the farthest thing from a monster in my life? You're my big brother, Dean. I still need you to help me. Don't you see that's why I'm so afraid? What will I do when you aren't here? To help me make the right choices."

"Do you still trust me to help you make those choices, Sammy?" Dean's stomach clenched as he waited for his brother to answer. He'd never been so scared to hear an answer in his life.

"Yes." Dean had barely finished speaking before Sam answered him. Gone was the hesitation. It was the one choice Sam had made in a long time that felt one hundred percent right.

"I want you to do something for me then." Dean's voice held the strength again that Sam had always heard in it. The voice he had drawn strength from.

"Anything…Except…" Sam's initial immediate response suddenly tapered off.

"No conditions. This is non-negotiable," Dean was almost growling which only made Sam want to smile.

"Anything, except stop trying to save you," Sam explained.

Dean sighed. "I told you I was on board for that one. I'm not saying you were the only one making bad choices here." He rolled his eyes.

"What then?"

Dean looked down again, avoiding Sam's eyes.

"Dean?" he pushed gently.

Dean slowly lifted his eyes again, locking with his brother's.

"You have to start being my little brother again."

Sam looked at his brother, and finally, Dean looked back at him.

"I never stopped."

"Bobby was right, you know. We are better as a team, acting as a check and balance. But we can't be a check and balance without those things that make us different."

Sam regarded his brother. So many had underestimated Dean over the years, ultimately to their detriment. Anyone who thought that Dean was just the brawn was sadly mistaken. Sam couldn't believe that he had fallen into the same trap.

"And as my little brother, the first thing you have to do is take my advice on women…" Sam rolled his eyes and smiled and Dean grinned back. Some things about his brother would never change, and for that, Sam was eternally grateful.

There was a soft knock on the adjoining door.

"C'mon in, Bobby. It's safe," Sam encouraged.

Bobby opened the door and studied the two young men in front of him. A smile tugged at his grizzled features. These were the young men that he knew. Sure, they were a sight more careworn than they had any right to be at their age, but it still looked as if a huge weight had been lifted from both their shoulders. The dark circles under both sets of hazel eyes seemed to have lightened in the short time he had been gone.

"Think you boys could eat something?"

"I'm always willing to try," Dean smiled back at Bobby. His colour was still a little off, but the pain etched into his face was almost gone.

"Sure, Bobby," Sam said. "Can I help you with anything?"

"Why don't you come and grab the coffees?"  
"Coffee?" Dean breathed.

"Yeah. But you get one cup, and then it's back to the Gatoraid and water for you – dehydrated, remember?"

Dean pouted.

"Well, I can't be too dehydrated, cuz I gotta make a pit stop." Dean grabbed the blankets to swing them off of himself so he could get up and use the bathroom, but stopped in horror as soon as he raised the blankets. The colour drained from his face.

"Dean! What is it?" Sam immediately noticed the change in his brother.

"Dude? Where the hell are my pants?" he breathed.

Sam and Bobby both sputtered and then burst out laughing.

"We both decided that you would choose to provide circulation to all of your anatomy in exchange for us having to live through the removal of your pants."

Dean just stared at them.

"Don't worry, bro. We kept our eyes shut the entire time."

"That's good. I'd hate for the two of you to have to live the rest of your lives with feelings of inadequacy." Dean wrapped the blanket around his waist and trailing it made his way slowly into the bathroom followed by the continued howls of Sam and Bobby.

* * *

**A/N: **I was reluctant to post this as I'm still not happy with it, but I just didn't want to keep people hanging any longer. I was hoping to use this fic to exorcise many of the demons that have popped up this season that have really been bugging me – in particular Sam's behaviour. Not sure that I've entirely accomplished that but I guess there is always the next fic! Thanks again for reading – please let me know what you thought. _ducks and runs from room_


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